Harry Potter and the Merlin
by Whisper2AScream
Summary: updated ch's! It’s a new year for the Gryffindor Three, and there’s a new student by the name of Tim Hunter who looks a great deal like the Boy Who Lived.
1. Starting Term

Title: Harry Potter and the Merlin  
  
Author: Whisper2AScream (whisper2ascream13@yahoo.com)  
  
Disclaimer: Here's your order, the usual: Tim Hunter, Ash, Molly, and the like belong to   
DC Comics, and Neil Gaiman, Dylan Horricks, and John Ney Rieber respectfully. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, and the like all belong to JK Rowling, and Scholastic. No profit is being made from this, so keep away the rats…er… lawyers, since me pay's abysmally low.  
  
Summary: It's a new year for the Gryffindor Three, and there's a new student by the name of Tim Hunter who looks a great deal like the Boy Who Lived.  
  
Rating: Um, going with PG-13 for now for violence and language.  
  
A/N: No offense, and I know it's been said before, but Hunter came first. Do like Potter and company in spite of what I initially expected, and it's frightening how many parallels you can make between them. Just a shame that Harry's stealing thunder away from the comic book industry, but getting kids actually reading, being imaginative, and (oh what is the world coming to? *smirks*) thinking for themselves is always a good thing. So, to you young'uns, when you're a bit older, pop down to the comic book store, and pick up a trade (or two or three) of Books of Magic, and read about Harry's long lost older brother. ;)   
  
BTW, since there's a Vertigo character starring, don't expect this to be all sanitized and Disneyfied. It's darker, and richer, more like a Grimm's marchën, and beyond GoF darkness. Plus, Harry will be featured more prominently later on, but starting out, it's more Tim-centric. For those unfamiliar with Tim, basically he's a lad from the Hackney section of London, who one day when he was twelve, went skateboarding, and ran into four strangers. The Trenchcoat Brigade, as John Constantine mockingly called their group, consisted of himself, Dr. Occult, the Phantom Stranger, and Mr. E. They had learned that Tim had the potential to be the greatest mage of his time, and wanted to guide him thusly to that decision. In a nutshell, he ultimately chose magic, and his life went rather downhill from there. He dated, met a succubus, ran into angels and demons (not much difference between the two he found as well), lost his father twice, and had several other misadventures. Don't want to recount everything since it'll spoil you, and it would take a frigging long time as well. Basically all you need to know is he's now 15, and recently found out some things about himself, and is on better ground for it. Though not above mistakes still. For those familiar with BOM and NoM, it's following them, and taking a sharp turn before going into H:AoM. Tim's still going to the White School, only on a world where it's commonly referred to as Hogwarts.   
  
For those unfamiliar with Harry, well, good on you for bucking the curve, and not going with the popular necessarily. Anyway, Harry had lost his parents to a murderous, and evil wizard, who somehow backfired a killing spell against baby Harry, and the boy survived. Years later, the boy gets a similar wake up call to Tim's, only learning that's he's a wizard, and is going to a school to be taught as such. Makes friends, enemies, has some adventures, and nearly gets killed several times. For those familiar with Potter's travels, it's now Year 5 for his group, and follows after the events of GoF. And now, I hope everybody's still awake, because it's storytime finally!  
  
--------------  
Harry Potter and the Merlin  
  
C h a p t e r O n e: Starting Term  
  
"Hogwarts? Bloody silly name for a school." Tim scoffed a bit as he pushed his glasses back up his nose. He had agreed that he needed to learn magic properly, and someplace safe from the Lotus, the Cold Flame, and any number of cults, faerie, and who knows how many other enemies, but the place sounded awfully strange. Even for him, and considering that he had been to places like Faerie, Hell, and even to the end of time, that was saying a great deal.  
  
Ash explained, "But it is a form of the White School, and they wouldn't think of looking for you there. It's a different world, but you would be protected. Magic is more welcome there for one." Off the fifteen year old's look, he added, "And yes, I have walked there once. It is not just this world that Walkers must walk. There is a large community of magic users, and while they keep separated from non-magic users, they are generally accepted."   
  
Tim shrugged, "I guess. So how do we get there?" He glanced up as he saw something in the sky. But it was only an owl, or at least his owl, Yo-yo. He still called it that even though nowadays the old Merlin used it as a way to keep an eye on him and advise him.   
  
Ash seemed to grin as the bird alighted on Tim's shoulder, "How else? By walking there."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Elsewhere, the summer had been rather quiet for Harry. The Dursleys were as horrid as ever, which wasn't a surprise. Though nowadays they would simply avoid him as much as possible, particularly Dudley. He had lost some weight from the diet that Smeltings had ordered him to go on. He still remembered the Ton-Tongue Toffee that the Weasleys twins had tricked him into eating, and now he would run past Harry holding a hand over his mouth. His Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia let him have normal meals and didn't take away his belongings, but mostly out of fear that some wizards would come in, and cause problems again.   
  
And they were all eager for him to leave when the Weasleys invited him over to the Burrows for the latter part of the summer. In fact, since his 15th birthday was on July 31st, they invited him the week prior so he could celebrate it there. Which was very preferable for him because the Dursleys had never held a single party or any sort of celebration for him growing up. If they had their way, they would have been better off without him. Needless to say, the feeling was mutual for Harry, and he was glad when the Weasleys stopped by to pick him up. Floo powder last year turned out to be a disaster, so the Ministry of Magic helped Arthur Weasley in obtaining a new vehicle, with the solemn promise not to alter it with magic. (Which he bent a little by extending space inside in the car.)  
  
He whispered about this as such to Harry when the family arrived. It was just Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley was back at home, and Fred and George were busy with their joke shop. They had only bought it about a month ago with the money Harry had won in the Triwizard Tournament. They still had a year left at Hogwarts, but wanted to work on their future as soon as possible.  
  
The Dursleys kept their distance from the Weasleys, despite Arthur saying hello, and asking about their health. Dudley just gave a small nervous whimper at that. After gathering Harry's trunk, suitcases, and Hedwig's cage, they were on their way.   
As much as Harry looked forward to his visit, part of him felt a bit uneasy. After all, Voldemort had come back into power, and though he was able to get away from him last time, Cedric's fate wasn't so lucky. And he knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort would try again.  
  
His time at the Burrows was very much enjoyable though. Fred and George came to visit for his birthday party, and even gave him some of their latest merchandise as presents. So, his pockets were filled with items like Snapdragon Sparklers, Bug-Eyed Buttons, and as an inside joke, some pieces of the infamous Ton-Tongue Toffees. Ginny still had a bit of a crush on him, and tended to stay in her room mostly while he was there. As usual, Mrs. Weasley fussed over him, and kept offering him extra helpings at meals. She also commented that he had grown a bit, and Ron seemed to have sprouted a good five centimeters.   
  
Harry was happy to get letters from Hermione, and also some greetings from Sirius. He knew he had been busy on assignment from Dumbledore, but he still hoped to see his godfather soon again.   
  
"Harry,   
I just wanted to let you know that I am well. I have been able to contact others, many who were also good friends of your parents. Keep me posted if you need anything. Remus says hello, by the way, and hopes your lessons with him have not gone to waste. Perhaps we will be able to meet sometime this fall. Hope to hear from you soon.  
Your godfather,   
Sirius"   
  
He had already read his letter several times since he received it. And he did remember many of the lessons that, the then Professor Remus Lupin, had taught him when he was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. The Patronicus spell came in handy during the tournament when he had thought he had run into a dementor, and which had turned out to be a boggart. His particular Patronicus figure, a type of protector, resembled the animagi form of his father, which had been that of a stag deer.   
  
It wasn't until almost the end of summer that Harry had received a letter from Hagrid, saying that he and Maxine were well, and had made some friends with some of the giants. It was especially good for them since they were both part-giants themselves, and had a chance to be amongst kindred beings. But his unease refused to leave, and his dreams were increasingly troubled as time wore on, often waking up at night, and rubbing his scar, which throbbed dully with pain regularly now. 


	2. London Calling Diagon Alley

A/N: Disclaimer and etc in first part. For those familiar with Greg Lam's Harry Potter and the Other Side of Evil might recognize the ref. in this chapter. And for those who don't, you should look up the story. It's an interesting read. ;)  
  
C h a p t e r T w o: London Calling Diagon Alley  
  
Tim Hunter felt lost.   
  
Ash had helped him reach this world, and they were in London of all places. It didn't seem any different from his London. At least, that was before they reached the Leaky Cauldron, an out of the way pub that appeared to be hiding from the street in a sense. Tim could sense the familiar tingle of magic as they went inside. Conversations stopped as they entered. He thought he heard some mumblings about somebody named Porter or Potter, but he didn't think anything of it.   
  
The bartender glanced up at them, and squinted a little, "Well, there's someone I've not seen for a very long time. Ash? Is that you?"  
  
Ash smiled in return at him, "Hello Tom, it's been a while." They shook hands over the counter.  
  
"To say the least," he agreed, and then turned to Tim, "And this is…?" He frowned a little in thought, and it appeared like his eyes were looking toward Tim's forehead for some odd reason.  
  
"This is Tim Hunter."   
  
Upon the introduction, Tim could see a flicker of disappointment, but then the bartender's face brightened again. It was also then when conversations sprung back up around the room as well. The bartender remarked, "Well, then, any friend of Ash's. Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, lad. Attending Hogwarts then?"  
  
"Er… yeah…" He glanced at Ash worriedly. How could he hide if the school was common knowledge? But then he remembered the Walker's earlier remarks about magic being more accepted here.   
  
"Well, we have to get Tim here some supplies, so we must go for now."  
  
"Yes, yes, quite right. You remember the way?"  
  
He nodded, "It hasn't been that long." The two then headed through a back exit, and toward a brick wall where there were some rubbish bins off to the side.  
Tim turned to him, "What did you mean supplies?"  
  
"School supplies. They're rather specific. Books, robes, and all."  
  
He rolled his eyes, "Next you'll be telling I need a ruddy wand as well."  
  
"Yes, that too," Ash said as he tapped the bricks with an ash branch. They both stepped back, and watched as the bricks moved back to form an archway. He then gestured, "Go on ahead. You can find your way around from here." He handed him an envelope, "Information is in there." He turned around to leave.  
  
"Wait!" Tim called to him, and he glanced back at him. "Where do I go?"  
  
"You said you're the all knowing mage. I think you'll manage," Ash deadpanned, and then walked away.  
  
Tim sighed, and with little else to do, he opened the envelope that was addressed to him. Blah-blah, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They can't be bloody serious? Be at King's Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾ on September 1. Platform and what? He had been to King's Cross Station, and there wasn't anything there. Just two arches, one that lead to Platform 9 and the other to Platform 10. Then, again, it's magic so anything's possible.   
  
He stepped through the archway, and glanced up and down the crowded street. It was a little like he had stepped onto a movie shoot. Old buildings lined the street, which was not uncommon in London, but there was also typically more modern buildings hunched up right along side of the old. And the people… There were many people walking around, all ages and gender, most dressed in robes in every imaginable color. Plus, he could see skeins of magic everywhere; the whole area breathed it in and out like oxygen.   
  
"Are you Tim?" A voice, the American accent obvious in its inflection, spoke. He turned, and beheld a woman in her mid-twenties. She had dark hair, amber eyes, and nut-brown skin. The expression on her face reminded him a bit of Khara, that woman who had had a child with an angel. He hadn't seen her since Araquel's death, probably in mourning. She had helped him before, but she always seem to have an expression of wise expectation on her face, a bit like a teacher. This woman appeared to be one as well.  
  
"Yes, I'm Tim Hunter."  
  
"Great. I'm Cora Lowry. I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, and I was likewise asked to help you around." She then added in a quieter tone, "Yes, I know of your situation, though they picked the oddest time for you to be here."  
  
He frowned, "What do you mean?"  
  
She shook her head, "Oh, never mind. Something you probably won't have to worry about where you're going. I understand the school's well protected." She then added, "So, you're going to be needing supplies I'll bet. Books and all. Plus I think the school's private. Uh…sorry, forget I'm in England now. You'd call it public school here, right?"  
  
"Yeah, that's right. You're American then?"  
  
She nodded, "By way of Philadelphia, yes. It's kind of different there."  
  
"I know, been to America a couple of times now."  
  
"Really, hmm… well, visiting is a little different than living there. But anyway, getting sidetracked. I can help you with getting books and stuff like that, but there's something you'll have to get yourself." She then remembered, "Oh, you'll be needing money. Shops around here don't use pounds."  
  
"What do they use? Huge bloody stones?" He scoffed, and was rewarded with an up cuff to the back of the head.   
  
She frowned at him, "Heard you're a bit of smart-ass. I'd keep that 'tude of yours in check around here if I was you. I don't want to have to explain to the Headmaster why you're coming to school as a frog or something."  
  
"You're joking." He stared back in shock. Ok, he could do things like change into cats and birds himself, but apparently that wasn't very common. What kind of a world was this?   
  
"I am, but not about that. Try to be polite, and don't piss off somebody who doesn't deserve it." Cora then went on, "Now, as I was saying, currency here's based on Galleons, Knuts, and Sickles. Um, Galleons are kind of comparable to your pounds, or dollars, though they're all in coin, not paper. An account's been set up for you over at Gringotts. It's just for while you're studying here, so think twice about any shopping sprees. Bulk of it's for school supplies and materials only."  
  
They headed to Gringotts, and received a little trouble since the goblins first had trouble locating Hunter's account, and it took a half hour to straighten the matter. Luckily they had little trouble at the other shops. There was only one thing left to pick up, and something that Professor Lowry felt Tim should take care of alone.  
  
* * * * *  
  
A while later, Tim glanced up and read the sign on the building. Ollivander's, Maker of Fine Wands Since 482 BC. *Yeah, how likely was that?* He snorted to himself before entering. An elderly gentleman peered over at him from where he had been hunched at work on something. Some blasted wand probably, Tim figured.   
  
The man studied him momentarily, and his gaze flickered upward toward Tim's forehead before making eye contact again.  
  
"May I help you?"  
  
"Er, yeah, I'm supposed to buy a wand, I think."   
  
The elderly man beamed at him, "Well, that we have. I am Mr. Ollivander, and you would be hard-pressed to find a better wand than these. All hand-crafted with a core of magical substance you understand."  
  
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only just. He already felt like such a dolt for simply being in here. Like hell he was going to ponce about with a wand, and be dressed like some fairy-tale wizard while he was at it. "Uh, right. So I just pick any one of them?"  
  
He shook his head, and then commented off-handedly, "You think this is silly, don't you? I assure, there are more to them then you think. For one, they choose you, not the other way around."  
  
"You make them sound like they're alive." Tim remarked.  
  
"Who's to say they're not? Now, let's see. Which is your magic arm?"  
  
Tim wasn't sure about that. He was right-handed but he tended to use whichever arm, or both to do spells. "Uh, either?"  
  
"Let me rephrase, right or left handed?"  
  
"Right." Tim replied, and Ollivander started measuring his arm.   
  
"I'll admit, you're rather old to only be getting a wand now. What did you do before? Wave your hands around like a great bat?" He asked with a bit of a chuckle in his voice.  
  
He sniffed, "Worked alright before."  
  
"Perhaps, but this will help you hone your abilities. Here, 10 ¾ in., maple and dragon heartstring." He handed one out to Tim, who took it and stared at it. "Well, give it a wave to test it."   
  
Tim shrugged, and waved it, but the owner plucked it from his hand immediately, "No, here, 11 ½ in., ebony and phoenix feather." Again, it was taken from him just quickly.  
  
"No surprise, difficult to place. Not unlike a lad similar to you, but I'm sure you know about him."  
  
"Who?"  
  
He blinked, "Why, Harry Potter of course. For a moment, I wondered if you two were related. Though, different eyes yes, and the hair's a tad lighter, but a remarkable resemblance. Now he was a tricky one. Holly and phoenix feather, unusual combination." He then paused in thought, and went over to the counter to grab something.  
  
"Who in the bloody hell is Harry Potter?" Tim exclaimed.  
  
"You don't know? Curious, very curious indeed." Ollivander peered at him intently, "I don't believe I caught your name."  
  
"Well, it isn't flipping Potter, whoever the hell he is! I'm known as Tim Hunter."  
For some reason, it made the other gentleman a bit more interested in him, "Ah, yes. Heard something about you, Mr. Hunter. Your father is not unknown around here. And you do take a great deal after him, I can see that now." He smiled knowingly.  
  
He frowned. This was a different world, how would his father ever…? But then he remembered: his real father, Tam Lin, and like his mother, also dead. He was once a falconer who could also transform into a falcon, and onetime consort of Queen Titania. Supposedly he was considered the same Tam Lin that was mentioned in legends and ballads. And Tim remembered how easy it was to reach different worlds from Faerie. So perhaps his father knew of this world too.  
  
The owner then added, "In fact, he gave me something, and asked for a favor. A special request order, should his son ever find this world."   
And he handed over a wand. "12 ½ in., rowan wood, and a very unique core, a falcon tail feather." Off Tim's look of surprise, he continued, "Oh yes, a feather donated from one Transfigured Tam Lin."   
  
Tim wordlessly took the wand, and didn't even have to give it a wave. The polished surface seemed to glow, and he thought he could hear the distant cry of a falcon. "Do I owe you anything?"  
  
"No. Not a thing. As I said, I could not sell it to anyone else. And this is simply a debt that is now paid in full. Take good care of it, and it will serve you well."  
  
"Er, yeah right. Cheers," Tim quietly said, and left quickly with a troubled expression.  
The owner watched him leave, and remarked to himself, "So the Merlin himself is here. Perhaps there is hope yet."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Elsewhere in Diagon Alley, Harry was picking up his supplies for the school year, along with the Weasleys.   
  
"I can't believe we really need all these books. How do they expect us to read them all?" Ron grumbled loudly to Harry.   
  
Mrs. Weasley replied, "You both have your O.W.L.'s this year. And Ron, I do hope you do well on them." She was a bit concerned since his older brothers, Fred and George, liked to goof off more than take tests. Ron didn't think it was that big a deal since his other older brothers had done well on them, especially Percy. Though he knew his grades were only good, partly from hard studying, and partly from Hermione helping him, and Harry with their work. Only in guidance however, as she considered it, since she was adamant against doing people's work for them.   
  
Harry had been feeling a little uneasy since they arrived in the marketplace. He felt rather queer, and at times, like he was in two places at once. His scar wasn't bothering him for once, so he didn't think too much of it.   
  
A little later, Mrs. Weasley had taken Ginny over to get potion supplies, and told them to meet over at Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor. But as Ron and Harry turned the corner, they thought they saw somebody dressed in muggle clothes leaving from Ollivander's. As they got closer, they both were struck by the fact that the boy heading down the street looked a lot like Harry. But as they hurried after him to find out, he vanished into the crowd.  
  
"Well, that was strange." Ron commented.  
  
Harry nodded, "Yeah." He looked around, and said, "We should probably head back."  
  
"Right." Ron agreed, but Harry wondered who it was. Plus, he remembered someone else who shared similar looks to him, someone who while was much older now, was also back in full power. The boy they saw also looked a great deal like Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort. 


	3. Potter or Hunter?

C h a p t e r T h r e e

**Potter or Hunter?**

Tim was sitting on the train, listening to the Chemical Brothers CD on the player that he had gotten from Nick. He relaxed as "Let Forever Be" blared on the headphones.

"How does it feel/To wake up as the sun?/ And how does it feel like/To shine on everyone?"

The train was still loading passengers, and he was staring out the window. So it was that he didn't hear the door open.

"Oh, there you are, Harry. Wondered where you disappeared to." A male voice called him. Upon no response, Tim felt somebody shaking his shoulder, and he turned angrily at the intruder.

"What?" He switched off the player, and stared at the teenager about his age with bright red hair, and lanky features.

The other boy frowned, and looked at him a bit, "Uh, sorry, thought you were somebody else." He was standing nearby in the booth.

He snorted, "Been getting that a lot around here. Some Porter or Potter bloke, right?"

"Yeah, Harry Potter. Don't you know about him?"

"No, except we look alike. Why?"

The other boy seemed shocked at this statement, "But he's gone up against He-Must-Not-Named, and survived. When he was little even! You're not a Muggle, so how can you not know?"

"A what?" Tim stared at him, and wondered if he was crazy.

"A Muggle, you know. Somebody who doesn't do magic. How old are you?"

"15. And I have done some magic," Tim replied with a secretive grin. Understating things just a little. "I'm new around here." He admitted.

"Oh, ok. Um, I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

"Tim Hunter," He said, and the two shook hands.

The door then slid open, and another boy entered.

"Hey Ron, told you to wait up, and...." He trailed off, staring at the boy sitting in the compartment. Tim likewise was studying the young man with his scruffy head of black hair, green eyes, and glasses. Yes, there was a resemblance, and a pretty strong one at that. Close enough that they could be considered brothers. The other teen was likewise noticing the dark brown hair, the blue eyes, and glasses, and the fact he looked almost identical to himself. He was an only child so there was no chance of a sibling, but it was still rather eerie.

Tim was the first to ask, "Guessing you're Potter?"

"Yeah, I'm Harry Potter." He didn't seem surprised. But then considering how well he was known around here, to be expected. Harry then asked, "Uh, who are you?"

"I'm known as Tim Hunter."

"Known as?"

Tim smirked, "Didn't they tell you? First rule of magic: never reveal your true name, or ask for somebody's name. Ask for what they want to be called instead." He wondered what kind of magic they taught at Hogwarts. Obviously there was going to be some differences if they use wands to make spells, and mix potions.

"Er, alright then."

"Can I ask you a question?" Tim then said, and upon getting the other teen's nod, "Why the hell is everybody staring at my bleeding forehead?"

"Oh, that. They're probably looking for this," And Harry lifted back the fringe that obscured a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Tim wondered how Harry had gotten it, but before he could say anything, Harry held out his hand.

"Er, well, nice meeting you."

"Same here," Tim agreed, and went to shake the proffered hand. The pair tensed, and suddenly felt a strange drawing together sensation go through them. Almost like the two of them merging, becoming one:

_I/We are Tim Hunter/Harry Potter, destined to be the greatest mage/wizard of our time. I/We watch as my/our parents are murdered, and Voldemort about to kill me/us. And my/our mother is saying goodbye to me/us as she goes to leave. And then the police show up later to tell me/us that my/our mother has died in a car crash, and my/our father lost his arm. Years go by, I/We get older, and now we're eleven/twelve, and Hagrid tells me/us that I'm/we're a wizard, and four men (Constantine, Dr. Occult, the Stranger, and Mr. E) step out the shadows to ask me/us if we believe in magic. And I/We make our decision. I/We accept the magic, and it's changing us. A falcon turns into my/our real father, Tam Lin, and I/we learn that my/our father was an Animagus, and his form was a stag. Evil returns again as Voldemort, as Mr. Wrong , as Lily, and poison nearly kills us. I/We can feel the pain of the venom of manticore, of the basilik burning through our veins. And then there is the old Merlin and he is looking at us..._

"Oy, you two alright?" Ron was staring at them both worriedly, and the two came out of their trances, and broke contact with each other. Harry and Tim both turned toward Ron at the same time, and replied in sync, "I'm fine." They glanced at each other, and both seemed to laugh a little.

Harry asked, "What was..."

"...that all about?" Tim finished. "Not sure. Your parents are dead?"

"That's right, yours too?"

"Yeah. All of them now."

"All? Oh, you met your real father later. He was an Animagus, too?"

"They turn into an animal, right? Uh, kind of. He was Tam Lin. And your father turned into a stag deer?"

Ron jumped in, and demanded, "How are you two knowing all this?"

Harry replied, "Not sure, we kind of..."

"...saw into each other. Don't know what that meant." Tim was a bit confused, though he wondered why the old Merlin was looking at both of them. He remembered him mentioning something about different faces and names, but same song. Tim had understood that he was to be a conduit for magic. But what about this Harry Potter bloke? Did he have the same destiny? And what was with that Voldemort character? The evil there, he had seen some of it in demons like Barbatos and Vasuki, and the manipulations of angels, but nothing he had experienced really compared with this ominous sense of foreboding he felt. The closest comparison might have been Mr. Lily, head of the Lotus, or his Other, what Molly had called Mr. Wrong, but in any case, it made him uneasy.

Harry didn't know what to think. Ever since he had learned that his parents were wizards, and that he was one as well, he also was told how unique he was. The Boy Who Lived. Now here was this lad who not only resembled him, but also apparently lived a similar life. What did it mean? And part of him worried a little for his new friend's sake. Harry had been targeted by Voldemort all of his life. What if he decided to come after Tim as well?

The door sliding open again broke their individual reveries, and a breathless young woman gasped out, "There you are! I wondered what happened to you two." She then stopped upon noticing the other occupant in the booth, and pushed some of her bushy brown hair away from her face. Her gaze went from Tim to Harry, and back again.

"Um, hello?"

Harry grinned at her, "Hermione, this is Tim Hunter. He's a new student at Hogwarts. About our age." He then introduced, "Tim, this is Hermione Granger."

"Top student in our class," Ron piped up.

"Er, nice to meet you," Tim said to her.

She smiled in return, "Likewise." She peered at his face intently, with occasional glances toward Harry to compare their features. "Remarkable. It's almost like you used polyjuice potion, but it was altered slightly somehow."

Tim asked, "Poly-what?"

"Polyjuice potion," she replied succinctly. "It allows you to take on another's appearance as long as you have the right ingredients, including a bit of who you change into."

"It's also one of the nastiest, vilest tasting things ever," Ron added.

"Speaking from experience then?"

Harry nodded, and added, "We had to use some a couple of years ago to find out something. Long story."

Tim asked, wonderingly, "Anything to do with that Voldemort bloke?"

Ron and Hermione both stared at him, and Ron exclaimed, "You said his name! Only Harry here, and Headmaster Dumbledore say his name. Most are too afraid of him, especially now."

"Why, what's going on now?"

Hermione replied, "Haven't you heard? He's back. Everyone thought he was dead for years, and he..." She trailed off, and her eyes flickered over to Harry guiltily.

Harry sighed, and drew back his sleeve where a sizable scar laid upon his forearm.

Tim somehow knew instantly, "He used your blood?"

He nodded as he lowered the sleeve back over the arm again. "It was part of a resurrection ritual. Partly so he could kill me, and partly so he gained my protection."

"From your mother," Tim said, and then added upon noticing the surprised looks, "I kind of picked up some of that. I saw him. Dealt with some nasty things myself, but not sure what to make of him."

Hermione asked, "Wait, what do you mean, picked up?" She glanced between the three young men, but it was Ron who spoke up.

"Harry and Tim here shook hands, and then they both went into some sort of trance or something. Dunno what it was. They were acting odd afterwards, talking alike and all."

Harry added, "I don't know what it all means either." He frowned, and then remembered something. "Hang on, we saw you. In Diagon Alley. You were leaving Ollivander's."

Tim frowned, "Oh, that wand place you mean? Yeah, not sure how to use it yet."

Ron's jaw dropped, "That was you? And what do you mean you don't know how to use your wand? You just got it?"

Tim nodded, "Yeah, never needed it before." He then grinned a little. This will shock them. He held his hand in front of him, and a small ball of light appeared, hovering over his open palm. He let it go, and it floated in mid-air in front of them before he allowed the energy to dissipate. The three blinked at him.

Hermione then said, "How... You didn't say any words or use your wand, or anything. That shouldn't be possible."

He snorted, "I've been told that a lot of what I do is impossible. Usually after I've done it. I can turn into a bird for you as well, but I'd have to strip first. And since you don't want to see me going starkers, and I don't want tattered clothes, that'll have to wait." Hermione blushed a little, getting a mental image of that. Ron and Harry both had grimaces on their faces from similar mental images.

"You must be as powerful as Dumbledore then. Why are you going to Hogwarts?" Ron asked, still a bit shocked.

"It's not really my power for one. Just using it, and just because I have power, it doesn't mean I know how to use it. Haven't you ever had spells that go wrong?"

The three glanced between them.

Harry was the one to say, "All the time. There's a lot that we don't know."

Tim nodded, "Well, it's the same for me." The other three sat down in the car, and all of them began conversing with one another, sharing stories. Tim, feeling like he was being watched, glanced at the window where a skulking figure was departing down the narrow hallway of the train car.

Elsewhere, in a place not far from where the Riddle House once stood, Voldemort sat upon his throne. He currently had some of his Death Eaters in conference with him.

"Two of them? Did I hear you correctly, worms? Two Potters?"

One of the hooded figures trembled a little as it stepped forward, "Yes, milord. The other one looks almost identical to Potter, but he does not bear your scar. And he is rumored to practice magic without a wand."

"Hmmm... this news intrigues me. Someone with such power should be persuaded, and if not, we will rid them both."

Another figure stepped forward, "Milord, we found someone. Someone who says they know of this other."

"Bring them forward."

A haggard-looking figure stared wild-eyed at his surroundings. His clothes were tattered, and he appeared to have barely survived something very violent. His eyes glanced upward at the serpentine person upon the throne, and cringed a little.

"Well, tell me what you know. Who is this other? Speak, vermin!"

He shivered violently, but could not speak. Voldemort glanced at one of his minions. The Death Eater nodded, and a foot shot out from under his robe, leveling a swift kick to the pitiful creature's spine. It cried out, as it fell to the hard floor. Bruises blossomed on its back, and legs. The wizard's foot struck again, and again, shattering ribs, crushing kneecaps, pulverizing limbs. The being mewled in pain, and the leader held a hand up to pause his follower. Still shaking, and now bleeding from multiple contusions upon its body, it finally stuttered out, "H-Hunter. M-m-Merlin." The Death Eaters gasped, and some backed away at the name.

Voldemort smiled cruelly, "The Merlin. Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Crabbe, Goyle, take that thing out of my sight."

"Yes, milord." They nodded, and grasped the figure roughly before shoving it out of the room before them.

"Malfoy, your son is still at that school, correct?"

"Yes, milord." He replied smoothly.

"Then, I suggest for both your sakes, that he would keep a very close eye on this Hunter. Do you understand?"

He bowed, "I understand, and shall obey, milord." He then backed out of the room, leaving the Dark Lord alone to ponder this new development. Such a being would be a most valuable ally, or else something exceedingly dangerous. Either way, they would be dealt with, and he would be one step closer to his ultimate goal.


	4. The Dragon and the Lion

A/N: Disclaimer in first chapter. And the plot thickening. Still haven't really decided which House for Tim. He's good, but as you can see, he can be a real arrogant jerk at times. Hence having him meet another one. Heh.  
  
C h a p t e r F o u r: The Dragon and the Lion  
  
Draco was sitting with the other Slytherin students on the train, when he felt a twinge in his left arm. The Dark Mark, only recently placed there, indicated his status as a Death Eater. Lord Voldemort also found it useful to contact his minions, and echoing his preference, the mark would hurt its owner, and summon them. When his father had brought him before the resurrected Dark Lord, Draco eagerly pledged his loyalty. It was the first time his father bestowed him with a look of pride, and that more than any promise of great power to come, was worth the pain of receiving the Mark.   
  
He excused himself, and went into a nearby lavatory partition. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, and stared at the magical tattoo, still red on the edges. When he glanced up at the mirror, he saw his father staring back at him.  
  
"Father?" He asked.  
  
Lucius stared back at him coldly, "The Dark Lord has charged you with a sacred mission, boy. There is a new student by the name of Hunter. The Lord wishes you to watch for him, and report back to us frequently."  
  
The blond teen nodded, "Shall I suggest which side he should take?"  
  
His father smiled inwardly. His son showed promise at times with a cunning mind that might go far, and do the Malfoy name honor. But he still had a great deal to learn in how to best apply it. His only reply was, "Do so, but quietly. The Lord would be very displeased if you failed. Do not disappoint me." With that, he dismissed the connection, and his son was left gazing at his own reflection.  
Anger crept into his voice as he calmly said, "I won't, Father." He recovered his arm, and buttoned the sleeve at the wrist. No matter how much he did, it never seemed to be enough in his father's eyes. Perhaps this mission will give him the recognition he had longed for so long, and the chance to excel beyond what his father has ever dared.  
  
When he stepped out the narrow passageway, he bumped into someone. His lips curled into a sneer, and he snarled out, "Watch where you're going, oaf!" He stared back at the young man standing before him. For a split second, he thought he was looking at Potter, but this teen had slightly disheveled dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes which narrowed with anger. He straightened his glasses upon his face as he met Draco's gaze.  
  
"Could say the same for you, arsehole." He shot back. "You bumped into me."  
  
Draco was taken back. He was used to students from other Houses being resentful of him, but to insult him so directly was unexpected.  
He went to grab his wand out his pocket, "You shouldn't have called me that, pillock." But a bright flash of light that pushed him back against the door stopped him.  
  
"How?" He gasped as his eyes widened in shock. "Who are you?" He stared at the boy's glowing hands held out in front of him.  
  
The other young man smirked, "I'm called Tim Hunter, and unlike you, I don't have to use something as backwards as a flipping wand."  
Draco's eyes widened further in recognition, "You're him?" If this Hunter was this powerful, no wonder the Dark Lord was interested in him.  
  
Tim snorted, "Who did you think I was? Bleeding Potter? He's alright, but we're not the same." He lowered his hands, and Draco felt the pressure against his body vanish. He straightened up, and placed his hand out in front of him.  
  
"We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Draco Malfoy."  
  
Tim shook the proffered hand, and studied him a little. "That's your real name? You must get hell for it."  
  
The platinum blond blinked with surprise, and replied, "Sometimes. You're new, right?"  
  
"Yeah, can't believe I'm supposed to go to a school called Hogwarts, of all things. Might as well called it Pig Pimples while they were at it."  
  
Draco chuckled a little. Powerful, but he seemed alright. Maybe a bit arrogant, but then again, so was he.  
  
"It does have its good points. Like if you're sorted into Slytherin. That's the only proper House there, you know."  
  
Tim frowned, "Sorted? What do you mean, sorted?"  
  
He smirked, "You'll see soon enough. Show you where you belong." He then asked, "You are a proper wizard after all?"  
  
Tim replied with a rueful look, "Actually I've been called a mage." He then started heading into the lavatory, but Draco stopped him by grabbing his right arm.  
  
"What's a mage?"  
  
"Somebody who believes in magic, and doesn't bother with shit like wands and robes." Tim laughed, and closed the door behind him.   
  
Leaving Draco standing in the passageway, and staring after him blankly. This Hunter was definitely stranger than he was expecting, and he found himself liking the other's cheek and arrogance. He seemed like someone he could almost relate to. It could be interesting having a real friend, and not just some minion hanging around to get favors. He headed back to rejoin his classmates, still deep in thought.  
  
* * * * *   
  
Tim did his business, and pondered for a moment. In discussions with Harry, Ron and Hermione, there was some mentioning on different Houses at the school. And he thought he remembered them stating something about Slytherin being a place for what they called Dark wizards. Dark as in evil he figured. Though, he had been told in the past that the user decided whether the magic was good or bad, depending on their actions. But anything to do with evil would be best to avoid. Too many people had been hurt in the past for him to go that path. He walked quickly back to the compartment.  
  
Ron and Hermione were going over something called OWL's, and he had a feeling they weren't talking about birds like Yo-Yo either. Harry noticed his return, and nodded to him.  
  
"You alright?"  
  
He nodded back, and then with a curious expression, asked, "Any of you know somebody named Draco Malfoy? He ran into me down the hall." With a small laugh, he added, "Literally."  
  
Three heads immediately turned in his direction.  
  
"You met Draco? Are you all right?" Hermione asked.  
  
"What did that ferret want now?" Ron was almost snarling, his tone decidedly angry. Harry was quiet, but watchful as he listened to his friends, and waited for Tim's answer.  
  
"Guessing that's a yes? Why, what's wrong?" Tim commented with a shrug.  
  
This time, Harry replied, saying, "Just that we've never gotten along with him since all of us started at Hogwarts five years ago. He insults and bullies us any chance he can get."  
  
Ron added, "Especially Hermione here. Just because her parents are Muggles."  
  
Tim blinked, "Muggles?"  
  
Hermione explained, "It means a non-magic user. And Draco and some others think anybody from such an upbringing can't be a true witch or wizard."  
  
"Which is a load of bollocks ("Ron!" Hermione hissed at him) because Hermione's always taking top marks in our classes." Ron went on to mention, which did earn him a small smile from her despite his language. His cheeks reddened, matching his hair momentarily.  
  
Harry also said, "Plus, my own mum came from a Muggle family, and she was a strong witch."  
  
Tim could understand a little of where he was coming from. He said, "Guess you could say the same for me of sorts. My mother, my real one, I think, was human; though I've also been told I'm part faerie. And someone recently told me that Tam Lin was also a mage."  
  
"Exactly, and you might be more powerful than anybody." Hermione remarked with a knowing smile.  
  
Harry wondered, "What do you mean by part faerie?"  
  
He shrugged, "Well, Queen Titania once told me that she was my real mum, but then she wasn't, and yet she is, and not completely clear how that all works out." Tim then continued, "So ok, Draco doesn't get along with you, but I don't know... Bit of a prick, but he didn't seem that bad. Plus, I think I almost made him piss himself." He finished with a rueful grin.  
  
Ron's face immediately lit up, and he eagerly asked, "Really? How? And please don't hold back on the gruesome details."  
  
Tim then went to explain his encounter with the apparently infamous Malfoy. Hermione frowned when he mentioned how Draco tried to attack him, and Ron and Harry were both grinning at the thought of his shocked expression when Tim stopped him.  
  
Hermione worriedly said, "That might not have been a good idea. What if word gets around that you can do magic without a wand? Not to mention, you could have gotten in trouble from the Ministry of Magic. Underage witches and wizards are limited in when and where they can use magic. You could have got into a lot of trouble."  
  
Tim scoffed back, "Ministry of what? They actually try to regulate magic on this world? How bloody ridiculous!" He almost felt like kicking himself for letting that out.  
  
Harry leaned back from where he was sitting, and asked uneasily, "What do you mean this world? Where are you from? What are you?" Ron and Hermione were likewise staring at him with suspicion.  
  
Tim sighed, and explained, "Ok, I am from around here, just a different England. Magic's not as known, and you don't have this large community of magic users there. There's more science than magic really.   
  
I was sent here because I need to learn how to use magic properly, and it was supposed to be safer here. Only not all that sure about that part since you're telling me there's Dark wizards, and some huge enemy named Voldemort who's tried to kill Harry here several times over, and he'll probably target me as well. Which isn't that much of a shock considering all the people I've had hunting me over the years. So he might as well take a bloody number, and wait at the end of the line." After finishing his diatribe, Tim sat down, and slumped into his seat. The rest of them continued staring at him in shock at this knowledge.  
  
Harry then asked, curiously, "Are you famous on your world? Like random people coming up to you, and seem to know you better than yourself?"  
  
Tim nodded, "You could say I was, especially magic groups. I'm barely old enough to shave, and I already have this huge bloody reputation ahead of me."  
  
"I hate it," Harry stated plainly, not noticing Ron's surprised look at this. "Never asked for it, or even wanted it. And everybody expects so much from me. Just because I'm lucky."  
  
Hermione quickly chided him, "But it's more than just luck, Harry. When you were a baby, yes. But you defeated He Who Must Not Named several times since."  
  
Harry turned to her, and shot back, "It is luck. And yeah, I defeated him all right. Did a stellar job there by actually bringing him back into power. I'm no better than his Death Eaters."  
  
"NO!" She yelled at him, "Don't you dare compare yourself to them! You're nothing like them." She calmed slightly when Ron placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  
  
"She's right, Harry. You've never attacked muggles or other mages like _he_ has, or they have. You've never placed the Imperio curse on people, and forced them to do horrible things. My dad told me some of the things that happened before, and I never really understood him until now HE's back. And it scares the hell out of me, but you've faced him before, and you're still here. Got to be for something."   
  
Tim's gaze flickered between the three of them. Ron and Hermione were good friends, best to stand by Harry like they have. He couldn't help feeling regret for his own friends. His childhood friend, Jimmy died because him and Magic. His one time girlfriend, Molly was driven away by him and Magic.   
  
"It really screws up your life, doesn't it?" He commented to himself, not realizing that he was overheard. Once again, he had a ring of looks in his direction.  
  
"What does?" Harry asked.  
  
Tim leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.  
  
"Magic," he said. 


	5. Sortings and Decisions

C h a p t e r F i v e

**Sortings and Decisions**

The Hogwarts Express pulled up to the station, and the students eagerly disembarked, everyone chatting about what the current year would be like. Among the first years, there was much talk about the Sortings, and who was going to be in what House.

"Firs' years over here!" Hagrid called out loudly. He grinned as he caught sight of Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Hullo Harry, Ron, Hermione. Alright here?"

"Hi Hagrid. I got your letter." Harry replied.

"Ah, right. Yeah, Dumbledore been keeping Maxi and me busy. Meeting with..." He trailed off upon remembering that he was with mixed company. "Well, that'll keep. Back to a new school year." From his height, he could see another figure step off the train, and a grey owl flew over to perch on his shoulder. When the young man turned toward their group, the half giant could see the resemblance to Harry.

"Ah, Tim Hunter, is it?" He called out to him. Tim glanced up at him, and his eyes only widened slightly at the hulking man standing there, first year students milling around him.

Harry and his friends waved him over, but Tim also heard another voice calling to him as well. He could see Draco likewise waving him over to his group. Obviously, Slytherin students didn't seem very friendly, though the girl near Draco appeared pretty. That is if she hadn't had the moue of disgust upon her face at the time. Tim glanced between the groups, and decided Hagrid was neutral enough for the moment. He could make other decisions later. He walked over to the giant, and had to crane his neck to make eye contact despite his own height.

"Um, hi," he said.

"Hullo, Tim. I'm Hagrid, professor and groundskeeper at Hogwarts. I teach Care and Handling of Magical Creatures. Professor Dumbledore already informed me of your situation. Since you're new here, you'll be Sorted after the First years." He said to him as quietly as he could. In a loud, and downright booming voice he added to the rest of the children, "Now if you all follow me please." He then led them all away to the boats by the school's moat. Tim's gaze flickered upward to the sight of the looming castle. With the moonlight illuminating the rocky edges, the effect gave it the appearance of a fairy tale castle.

"Well, that bloody figures," He muttered.

Harry likewise noticed Draco calling Tim over, and the two of them frowned at each other. Both of them turned back to their respective groups.

Ron commented, "What does he want with Tim? From what he had told us, he scared Malfoy silly."

He shrugged, "I don't know." His frown deepened as he remembered what Draco had said to them at the end of last year. About how Harry had picked the wrong side in the upcoming battle, and Draco most likely was following in his father's footsteps to become a Death Eater. "He might have been trying to get him on his side. Tried to do the same to me when we first met."

Ron nodded, "I remember that."

Hermione spoke up, "But that's not going to happen? Tim has more sense than that, right?"

Ron turned to her, "Well, you were the one saying that Tim shouldn't been showing off his magic like he did. Even though the look on Draco's face must have been priceless." He snickered a little at the mental image of Malfoy wetting his trousers in fright.

"Well, he should have been more careful. We're fairly safe at school, but there's still things to worry about." Hermione reminded.

"Regular ray of sunshine, aren't you?" Ron teased her, "Headmaster Dumbledore's powerful, nothing can get past him. Right, Harry?"

Harry had been distracted still, thinking about Draco, Tim, and the fact Voldemort was most likely going to come after him again. It was only a matter of time when.

"Harry? You alright?" Ron asked him again.

"Err... yeah, I'm fine, Ron," he replied. "Nothing to worry about."

Inside the castle, Tim glanced around at the high staircases, and paintings all around. Upon closer notice, he could see some of the stairs were moving, and the people in the paintings were moving. Even from his experience, he had to admit it was interesting.

"Attention everyone!" A female voice announced. There was an older woman dressed in long robes, and wearing an unmistakable witch's hat upon her head, standing in a doorway. Tim had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the sight.

"I am Professor McGonagall," She said, her voice laced with an obvious Scottish burr. "I teach Transfigurations, and I am Head of the Gryffindor House. One of the Houses which you may be Sorted into. In a moment, we will enter the Great Hall, and you will sorted into the Houses. These are to be your family while you are here. You will eat and sleep together with your House members. All of your accomplishments will favour your House, and any failures," Her expression, already stern, appeared downright grim at this point, "will likewise hurt your House. I trust that you will all strive to do your best here at Hogwarts." As the doors behind her opened, she shooed the first year students on ahead. She then motioned Tim over.

"Over here, Mr. Hunter," She said with a small, yet warmer smile. "You will be Sorted after the first years. Arrangements have been made for you to have tutoring sessions due to your situation. For the most part, you will be considered a fifth year student, and have your classes with them." She sighed a little, and asked, "Now do you have any questions?"

"Uh, this Sorting business? What exactly is it?" Tim asked uneasily, imagining any number of creepy or disturbing rituals involved. He had seen his share over the years.

"Well, you will see in a few minutes. And from what the Headmaster has told me, I don't believe you will have any trouble."

Shows how little you know about me then. Tim thought bitterly. There always seems to be trouble for me. He followed her into the Hall where students were standing by tables on either side. Looking up, he could see candles hanging in mid-air, and overhead instead of a ceiling, there was a stormy night sky. He studied it a little, seeing the intricate magics involved.

"That's brill," he whispered to himself. He added in a louder voice, "Must be very complicated. The spell to do that."

"Yes, that would be the Headmaster's doing."

Tim nodded, obviously impressed in spite of his disbelief over the place. They came to a stop behind the crowd of first years. The children all were staring at something strange. A very shabby, dilapidated hat lay upon a wooden stool. And just when he thought it couldn't get any stranger, the top separated from the brim, creating a mouth, and the hat began to sing.

"Founders four made the school,

And houses four became the rule.

For the wise, Rowena surmised

In Ravenclaw, where sharp minds lie

For the loyal, Helga supposed

In Hufflepuff, where hard workers repose.

For the brave, Godric knew

In Gryffindor, where the stout hearted are true.

For the ambitious, Salazar planned

In Slytherin, where the cunning shall land.

All of you I will tell you well

In which of the four, you shall dwell

So fear not, I'm never wrong

Slip me on, for this is the end of my song"

The students and the teachers in front of the Hall applauded, some quite loudly. Tim couldn't help laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of it all. Some moth-eaten, wizard's relic was going to tell him which House he should go? That was it? It was completely silly, and he started wondering if this fuss was really worth the bother. How was he going to learn to control and properly do magic at a place like this?

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard names being called.

"Bailey, Gertude" A pretty blonde-haired girl stepped up, and as soon as the hat descended upon her head, it was only a second before the hat yelled, "Hufflepuff!" A round of cheers went up at the House table as she walked over to join her classmates.

"Cernd, Liam" was sent to Ravenclaw, and a "Crowley, Aric" joined the Slytherin students. A few names later, he heard "Lowry, Esperanza" and a somewhat mousy girl with dark features, and glasses perched on her nose, stepped up the stool timidly. She sat there nervously fidgeting the whole time the hat was on her head. A few moments later, it shouted "Gryffindor!" She quickly removed the hat, and fled to the table, disappearing in the crowd of cheering students. Tim turned, and could see Professor Lowry watching the shy girl. Comparing features, he quickly figured the girl to be her daughter. He was a little surprised that the girl was going to be studying at the same school that her own mum was teaching at. No wonder she's shy. Her mum's a teacher here, and coming in from another country. He made a mental note to talk to her later if he had a chance.

He was so much engaged in thought that he almost missed his own name. As it was, Professor McGonagall had to repeat herself.

"Hunter, Tim!" She called again with a note of annoyance in her tone of voice.

"Er, yeah, right." He answered, his cheeks burning at the sound of surrounding titters. Bloody hell He silently thought. He stepped up to the stool, and forcefully jammed the hat upon his head with some anger.

He heard an "Oof, easy there," in his head. A talking hat? He thought, only to receive in reply:

"Quite right I talk, and sing, in spite of boys crushing my brim. Now, let's see. There's some arrogance, no surprise. A bright and imaginative mind, if bearing a rather impulsive nature. Strange... Ambitious to a point, but not really focused. A wish to avoid past wrongs, how unusual. Very difficult, hmmm... where to put you, eh?"

My luck, probably be either Gryffindor or Slytherin. He thought bitterly.

"Bit of a cynic, aren't you? Well, true, you have great potential for either place. Great potential indeed. Not unlike another lad."

Oh, not fuckin' Potter again! We're not the same.

"Perhaps, though you have more in common than you realize. But I cannot place you. You are so evenly divided that you would go far in any House."

Fat lot of good you are then.

The hat commented saucily, "Oh ho, is that how it is? Maybe you should go to Slytherin after all."

Tim considered it, but all he could see was Molly's tearful face as she said goodbye to him. 'I waited, Tim, I did.' She had said, after she barely seemed real to him anymore, his eyes and ears full of magic. He remembered her conversation to Marya, how he in the future made copies of her, abused her, imprisoned her, making her his puppet. And how he made so many deals with demons that he couldn't remember himself. He remembered seeing Mr. Wrong, with perversions of Tim's family, and friends, including those who came about from his Opener magic. And Mr. Lily, who offered him, answers where he knew he would find none. Perhaps he could be an exception to that House, but he couldn't go that way. Not now, when he finally found himself, and knew who he was. There's too much chance he would lose it if he gave in.

I can't. It's too high a price.

"I see... you truly are unusual. Well then, since you're sure, it shall be Gryffindor!" And the last word was shouted throughout the Hall, with cheers erupting along the House table. Tim heard none of it as he silently took off the hat, and replaced it on the stool. He went over, and sat down near Harry's group.

He didn't see it, but Harry spied Draco staring at Tim, not cheering which was expected considering his loathing of the House and its students. But his expression was strange. A mix of anger, sadness, and disappointment swam across the Slytherin student's face. He almost seemed hurt somehow, which was unheard of.

Ron clapped Tim on the back, "Well done!" But Tim barely acknowledged him.

"Tim? What's wrong?" Hermione asked with concern, but he just shook his head.

Harry glanced over at him, and decided to talk to him privately in the Common Room later.

The noise level died down again as Headmaster Dumbledore stood up.

"I welcome you all to another year at Hogwarts for those returning students, and a new year for our new students. As a reminder, no students are permitted to enter the Forbidden Forest, and third years and above only are allowed on Hogsmeade visits with parental or guardian's permission."

Continuing he gestured to Professor Lowry, "I'd like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Cora Lowry." Ron and Harry looked at her, though they both also glanced at Professor Snape. Snape who currently taught Potions had been coveting the DADA position since he had begun teaching at Hogwarts. And he continued to be angry at being denied the opportunity. A great deal of it stemmed from his background as a Death Eater, but Dumbledore continued to refuse him anyway. Snape currently had a snarl on his face at the new professor, his anger very plain.

"Ooh, no wonder he's upset. Shown up by a girl this time?" Ron mentioned.

"And what does that mean?" Hermione angrily asked.

"Um, nothing. Just Snape's upset not getting the spot yet again."

"Don't see why he bothers considering how long Professors last there anyway." Harry remarked, and the two nodded. The position held a reputation for being cursed, or jinxed since no Professor ever lasted more than one year for various reasons.

"Plus, she's from America." Tim quietly added.

The three turned to him, and Ron asked, "A Yank Professor? Really?" Upon the received nod, he added, "Brilliant. Bet she'll have some good lessons." All four of them looked over at her, and she seemed to give a thumbs-up in Tim's direction. He gave a small wave in return. Everybody was surprised by what she did next. She turned toward Snape, and smirking a little, mouthed a comment to him. She then winked at him, and his face turned scarlet with anger. Chuckles and snickers were heard by some of the students to witness this. Snape hurriedly got up to leave, but a remark from Dumbledore stopped him, despite the Headmaster's eyes twinkling with amusement. The Potions professor sat down in a huff again.

Dumbledore then said, "Well, now introductions have been made, I think we're all ready for some refreshments?" And food and drink appeared on all the tables. Tim glanced down, wondering what kind of spell was used. Teleporting possibly? He knew enough that conjuring out of thin air was very hard and advanced.

Hermione blinked, and asked the boys as they proceeded to eat, "What do you suppose that was all about?"

Harry shrugged, "Some strange American custom?"

Ron shook his head, and said, "I hope it's not what I think. She's acting like she fancies him! Bleeding bonkers to think him attractive!"

They glanced at Tim, but he was quiet in thought again. He seemed indifferent to the feast, and actually looked like he was more interested in leaving early like Snape.

And speaking of the professor, Harry noticed him gazing at their table. A prominent frown was in place, but little surprise there. He hadn't liked them since their first year, especially Harry, due to being enemies with his father from their own school days. But as his eyes flickered toward Tim, the frown was still remained, but with a difference. He appeared to be studying the new student as intently as he would study their cauldrons in class.

A piercing cry sounded overhead, and an owl landed on the table before Tim.

His attention diverted from Snape, Harry remarked, "Oh, I didn't know you had an owl as well. What's their name?"

A funny expression appeared in Tim's eyes as he replied, "Oh, I call him Yo-yo. Long story really." He glanced back at the bird intently.

Tim, you must be careful while you are here. I have learned of disturbing matters in this world.

Under his breath, Tim muttered, "Can we talk about it later?" His eyes flickered over to indicate the current company.

The bird ruffled its feathers in irritation. Very well, meet me in the school's Owlery later. It flickered its gaze to Harry briefly before raising its wings, and flying away again.

By now, Ron and Hermione were likewise watching this odd exchange.

"No mail?"

Tim looked at them, not understanding what they were talking about. They were not surprised by the bird's sudden appearance. In fact, Harry mentioned having one, though his was probably much more ordinary. Only Tim knew of Yoyo's true identity, but again he wondered why it had looked at him, and not unlike the old Merlin had in their shared vision.

Sensing his confusion, Hermione explained, "Most wizards use owl-post to mail letters and packages. Very different from the muggle postal service."

"Oh, ok. Uh, no mail. Excuse me." He then got up from the table, and headed out of the Hall. Gryffindor and Slytherin eyes turned to watch his departure.


End file.
